Winter Journal

Winter Journal by Paul Auster (2012) I’ve only read a few books by Paul Auster—I want to read more—he’s got so many books, and I really want to re-read the New York Trilogy as much as anything. This is a memoir that came out in 2012. I feel like I’ve read more of his stuff than I have, maybe, partially, because I’m remembering those movies he collaborated on with Wayne Wang, in the Nineties. I got the impression, then, that he was at death’s door, but this book is nearly two decades later, and… same. He passed away fairly recently, so this feels somewhat haunting—no less so because I listened to the audiobook and he narrates it—which is great, he’s an excellent reader, and you feel like he’s right there with you. It’s written in the second person, which is kind of unusual, and really works—so he’s addressing “you”—which means him—but as he was, when he wrote it, approaching the age I am now—so it feels uncannily like he’s addressing me. No less so because we’re thematically compatible—lots of musing on time, aging, mortality, tragedy, and in spite of it all, life being an exceptional privilege—which we do appreciate.

2.12.26